GenerationEx Girl

GenerationEx Girl is a single 40 something working mom who learned to get through the darkness of divorce with dignity, humor, and the support of her tribe. The purpose of the GenerationEx blog is to offer share stories on surviving singledom and hopefully inspire laughter.

Fifty Percent of Gray

Editors note:
I admit it. I got sucked into the Fifty Shades of Grey Trilogy about the sexcapades of rich and controlling 27 year old Christian Grey told from the vantage point of his twenty-something “submissive” girlfriend. I decided I would take a break from blogging about my real-life post divorce life and create a parody chapter Of the best seller with a different angle – one of a 43 year old Divorced single parent in the very real world of dating. And No, it’s not about me or anyone I dated. If you have read the book(s)..Enjoy!

Fifty Percent of Gray

Me, yes me. I’m actually his..Gray Christian! The former CEO of Christian Enterprises holdings – until it was recently acquired by Atheist Inc. He smiles at me, blue eyes twinkling. My inner goddess dances with delight. He’s mine! As we speed down the road I ask him, “Where are you taking me Sir?

“Your place. My ex has the house this week. We are nesting.”

We both have 50/50 custody. “Do you have the kids tonight?” He asks his mouth forming a straight line.

“No. I do not Sir.” I answer obediently.

“Good” he says. Soon we arrive at my place and he wraps his arms around me burying his face in my hair. Can I bear it??? And is it clean? I didn’t have time to wash it before bus drop off this morning! Gray climbs out of the car and then holds the car door open for me.

“Come” he demands taking my hand and walking me to my house. As I unlock the door, he suddenly picks me up like a child and throws me over his shoulder and carries me up the stairs. I melt. I hear his knees pop with each step. He slips my dress over my head expertly with one hand. I shudder. I wish I hadn’t worn my ugly padded bra! My fingers curl around his thinning gray hair. He then slowly, expertly, slides off my Spanx, pitching them across the bed, knocking my reading glasses off the night stand.

“You are mine he says greedily”. He pushes me down on the bed and begins to run his tongue down my neck, towards my belly, down…Oh god. Oh god. Oh god I didn’t wax…I sit up, grab his hands and pull him up towards me.

“I must have you now” I plea to distract him from my unsightly lack of grooming. He stands and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a breath mint. He rolls the blue mint on his tongue, flicking it, torturing me. He unzips his jeans and is suddenly on top of me, his white linen shirt and socks still on.

“I could look at you all day” he says. My inner goddess hopes he doesn’t see my cellulite and c section scar. “I want to tie you up.” He says, his tone changing instantly. I will use this” he says with Mr. Blankie in his hands. Oh no…Mr. Blankie is not to be used as a sex toy! I toss Mr. Blankie to the floor next to the discarded Spanx, hoping he doesn’t find Mrs. Walrus buried in the sheets.

“Here – use this” I say as I tear my blackberry charger from the wall.

“You are so demanding” he says, his mouth curling into a smile. He searches for bed posts finding none in my rental and ties my hands together with the black cord. He presses his mouth to mine. I feel that shock of electricity. I can resist him no longer. Oh Gray….He crushes me to him and whispers,

“What does the madam wish? What will it take to please you fully?” Too old and wise to fake it I answer.

“You are going to need your hands. Mine are tied up.” As he starts to tease me and caress my thighs with his elegant fingers I look down and realize his great length – is not. Catching my glance he turns cold, eyes turning to ice.